What Kind of Sick Joke is This?
by kbomb234
Summary: When Jazz's younger sister touches down on Earth, she causes mayhem and mass chaos. But when her arrival uncovers several secrets, they are forced to rethink everything they knew about certain 'Bots, especially Jazz. NOT a JazzxBarricade pairing.
1. Chapter 1

What's crackin', mah peeps? This is kbomb234 giving y'all the low down with a new story I'm working on. Now some of y'all have read 'Of Frying Pans and Government Liaisons" or 'Jingle Bells: Transformers Style. Well, you guys are gonna meet Sabre and Katana soon, I just gotta type up their story. 'Till then, enjoy What Kind of Sick Joke is This? PEACE OUT, MAH HOMIES! By the way, IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, TODAY! YAHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Notes:

°- Sparklock is when a mech or femme locks their spark chamber so they are not forcibly bonded with another Cybertronian.

"…." English

"…**." **Cybertronian

'…_.' _Thoughts

-…..- Comm. Line

~….~ Sibling Line

*- Guess the pop culture references! Winner of all three gets a special one-shot about their favorite bot!

* * *

><p>HipHop spied the green-blue planet sitting comfortably in its orbit around the golden orb it had claimed as its star. She gave a large smile and her visor brightened visibly.<p>

"Ah believe that Ah've found Earth. From that transmission signal that Ah managed t'grab and destatic, this looks like it," She muttered to herself. Folding down into a pod, she ejected herself towards the earth.

_'Jazz, ya better be down there. Primus knows how long Ah've been searching for ya...'_ was her last coherent thought as she shut down into stasis.

* * *

><p>"Prime! We gotta reading that says a meteor is heading straight t'wards Earth. 'Jack says it's a Cybertronian." Jazz said as he slid into Optimus's office. Optimus paused in the middle of his conversation with Major Lennox and turned to Jazz.<p>

"Autobot or Decepticon?" he asked.

"We don't know, but there is one important thing ya should know..."

"What is it, Jazz?" Optimus queried.

"They found out that th'bot coming t'wards us is a femme."

Optimus's optics widened almost imperceptibly. "Oh dear."

Lennox gave a slightly confused look to the Autobot commander. "I'm going take a guess here and assume that a femme is a female. Why are you guys so freaked that a girl is coming here?"

Jazz began explaining. "During th'war, there was a massacre o' th'majority of th'femmes and sparklings by those slagging 'Cons. The equivalent o' this on your world would be if during one o' your wars, someone killed all th' women an' kids they could find. Because o' that, th'remaining femmes, including Optimus's an' Ironhide's sparkmates, made up th' femme division o' fighters an' hid away. Last we heard o' them, they were under heavy fire from th' 'Cons. But this new femme is goin' t' be in th' midst o' a bunch o'mechs that ain't seen a femme in millions o' years."

Lennox winced and walked onto Optimus's servo. "So our job is to make sure a bunch of horny mechs don't jump the possibly single and last femme in the Autobot army. Splendid. We'll need either uninterested bots or married-"

"Sparkmated," Jazz interrupted.

"Bots to pick her up. Where is she landing?"

"'Bout an 'our away from th' Hoover Dam in th'desert in about an 'our an' a half." Jazz answered.

"Optimus, which bots can you spare?" Lennox asked.

"I myself will go, along with Ironhide, Ratchet, and you, Jazz. We need to make sure the Decepticons don't get to her first." With that, they traveled to the hangar and assembled the team. In five minutes, they were on their way. Prime was carrying three or four vehicles for the femme to choose from in his trailer.

After an hour or so past the Hoover Dam, they came to a smoking crater. Optimus unloaded the cars, transformed and walked up to the pod still in the center of said hole.

**"I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots. Please download the English language off of this world's internet and state your designation and faction."** He intoned. Suddenly, he heard a ping on his comm. line.

-Optimus Prime- he answered.

-Sup. Name's HipHop. Ah'm an Autobot femme. Ah gotta quick request. Since Ah'm in mah protoform°, ya mind showing meh some alt. forms so Ah can have some armor?- the pod, er, HipHop asked.

A slight smile spread on Optimus's face. Picking up the small pod, he angled it towards the cars. After a few seconds, a blue light from the pod scanned a turquoise 2009 Mustang with silver flames. The pod began to transform, so Optimus placed it onto the floor. The femme windmilled her legs around in a circle and flipped up onto her pedes like a certain silver mech did when he first transformed.

She had thick turquoise plates that covered her chassis, namely over her spark chamber, pelvis, from her elbows to her palms (like fingerless gloves), and from her knees to her pedes. Her helm was turquoise and made with heavy plates. Thinner silver plates covered her thighs, upper arms, and the rest of her torso. Thin turquoise doorwings stood proudly on her back. Silver flames streaked across her forearms, lower legs, chassis, and doorwings. A silver headset with sensitive folded butterfly wings*on her helm served as audio receptors and headphones. She was obviously a femme as her chassis was considerably larger than the mechs and her body was much curvier and less bulky.

"What's crackin', mah homies?" she asserted in English.

"Designation's HipHop. Ah'm th' head o' th' femme Special Ops, a commanding officer under Elita-One, an'," here she winked her blue visor at Jazz, "Jazz's younger sister."

Jazz's face broke out into a huge smile and he tackled his newly found sibling.

"HipHop, ya heartless glitch, where th'Pit have ya been?" he said as he hugged his sister.

"Oh, y'know th'usual. Doing Special Ops over here, slagging 'Cons over there. Y'know, the same old same old," she replied happily.

"Wait a minute. Jazz, when in Pit did you have a sister?" Ratchet snapped in shock.

"Ever since she was sparked," Jazz retorted. He swiftly dodged a well aimed wrench headed straight for his helm.

"But seriously, Ah was accepted int' th'Special Ops when mah brother was picked t'be th' TIC o' th'Autobots. So there wasn't any arguments 'bout th'honesty of my tryouts, Ah made sure that Jazz didn't tell ya'll 'bout meh."

Prime nodded in understanding. The Special Operations Unit worked in mysterious ways and absolute honesty combined with secrecy were the core values of the Unit. As they used to say on Cybertron, "Only Special Ops knows what goes on at Special Ops."

"Have you any news from the other femmes?" he 's visor darkened and she stepped out of her brother's embrace.

"Sir, our forces have been decimated even further. Elita-One, th'ARCEE unit, mahself, an' a few renegade femmes are left free. Th'others have all been captured or killed." she spat out, rage, hatred, and pain evident in her voice. "Ah was sent by 'Lita t'make sure your transmission was accurate as acting scout. Since Ah landed, Ah've sent our ship a message t'land in a few months. We need t'regroup, mechs and femmes, t'defeat th'Cons an' rescue those captive femmes."

All the mechs reeled at the magnitude of HipHop's words. From barely a hundred femmes to maybe ten to twenty (if you're feeling scarily optimistic) femmes free in the galaxy.

"Those slagging 'Cons, they'll pay for this," Ironhide snarled, clenching his servos. HipHop nodded her helm, visor now bright with anger.

"But y'all be happy t'know, every femme went down fighting. Mah unit was attacked an' Ah was th'only one t'escape. They were taken down after they had taken out half th'Con forces an' we were outnumbered five t'one. Ah didn't want t'leave them out there alone, but even Ah knew it was suicide to try an' save 'em then. Ah lost them all, and Ah've never f'rgiven th'Cons fo' that."

HipHop cycled her vents once, then stiffened. The wings on her audio receptors jutted out to the sides.

"Y'all hear that?" she said, her body completely still. They all gave her strange looks.

"No, we heard nothing..." Prime responded.

"Jazz, 'member plan BTTR?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Modify t'circut vulture mode cubed."

"Ya kidding meh." Jazz swore. "Prime, HipHop can hear three Seekers heading our way. Ah've gotta feeling** that they're after HipHop."

"How does she know? There's no way to hear it from so far away." Ironhide scoffed.

HipHop stepped back and extended three curiously curved blades from the back of each fist. "It's th'Command Trine. Skywarp is bound t'be here in three, two, one." And with that, she swiped at the air in front of her just as the predicted mech warped directly ahead of her.

Skywarp roared in pain and stumbled back. The other mechs sprang into action after a moment of shock. Jazz and HipHop tackled Skywarp and tried to subdue him, but the Decepticon warped again and jumped HipHop. Starscream and Thundercracker swooped in and attacked the other mechs, effectively distracting them from the struggle between HipHop and Skywarp.

"Hey, pretty femme, wanna frag?" he cooed as she struggled beneath him.

"Go play wit' y'self in th' corner," she snarled and she kicked him off of herself. She flipped up and punched him in the jaw.

"HipHop! Windclaw!" Jazz shouted as he ran towards her. HipHop nodded and raced towards him, Skywarp hot on her heels. Time seemed to slow down for the siblings as the old practice routine replayed itself in their heads. Jazz crouched and boosted his sister into the air as she stepped into his hands. Twisting her body in the air, HipHop clawed Skywarp's face, then slashed him across his spark chamber. Skywarp yelped as he felt the claws pierce near his spark.  
>"You little glitch!" he cursed, nursing the energon oozing nonstop from his chassis. But HipHop had gone.<p>

Ironhide was attempting to take out Thundercracker. The Seeker was much wiser when it came to fighting, than his impulsive and egotistical trinemates. He took the aerial route and stayed in his element, while taking shots on the grounded Autobots. Ironhide was starting (starting being polite) to get pissed.

"COME DOWN HERE AND FIGHT LIKE A MECH, YOU DAMNED SPARKLING OF A GLITCH!" he bellowed, energon dripping from shot wounds as he continued to try and ground the flier. "YOU FRAGGING SEEKERS HAVE NO SENSE OF AN HONEST FIGHT!"

Jazz, unknown to both parties, was sneaking up behind Thundercracker along with HipHop.

~On m'mark, boost meh inta th'air an' roll away t'help Prime~ he muttered over their link.

~Roger~ she whispered back. They waited 'til Thundercracker had lowered himself several dozen feet as cockiness began to effect even him.

-NOW!- Jazz shouted. HipHop boosted him up in the same way he had lifted her and folded into her alt mode to attack Starscream. Jazz realized in midair that his sister was a lot stronger than he remembered and... he was going to land on top of the blue seeker. SCRAP! Cursing vibrantly, he prayed to Primus that he had observed enough of the Lambo twins' "Jet Judo" to wrestle Thundercracker to the ground. As the Seeker came closer and closer, he fired off several rounds that hit the jet.

"Eat mah bullets, airhead!" he shouted as he shot the surprised mech. Ironhide stopped shooting in shock as he watched his TIC fly onto Thundercracker.  
>Landing on the mech's body, Jazz wrapped his arms and legs around Thundercracker's body and prayed to Primus, God, Buddha, Allah, Zeus, the Force, Steve Jobs, and any other deity that he could think of that he could take him down and live. Said Seeker went crazy and did barrel rolls, aerial flips, nosedives, anything he could think of to shake off the cling-on***. After a few moments, Jazz pried his arms off of his target and began firing at the stately wings.<br>Thundercracker screamed in pain at the harsh abuse to his sensitive wings. He continually tried to shake Jazz off, but the determined little mech continued to fire his guns. Finally, the pain was too great and his wings had too many holes in them for Thundercracker to stay aloft. He slipped into stasis and began falling.

_'Awwwwww, frag...'_ was Jazz's final logical thought as he plunged from the sky. Then, it became a panicked, 'HOLY PRIMUS, AH'M GONNA DIE!'  
>His scream echoed across the battlefield as he fell hundreds of feet towards the earth. His last conscious thought as he hit the dirt, literally, was, <em>'HipHop n'Ratchet's gonna OFFLINE meh.'<em>

While all this was going on, Prime was fighting Starscream. The egotistical mech was monologuing constantly about the fact that he was the superior leader and after he claimed the glory of killing the final Prime, he'd get rid of Megatron and take over Cybertron and the universe would soon be his. Typical treacherous narcissistic sidekick rambling and such. Prime, however, kept his cool and continued to methodically attack him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the new femme slowly creeping up towards him. HipHop had a thin wire in her servos and continued to inch towards him.

-Pretend I'm not here- she comm'd softly.

-Do you know what you're doing?- he replied.

-Yes, I do- she closed off the link and crept towards the flying mech. Optimus surprised Starscream with a furious barrage of slashes and punches and kept his back towards HipHop. She counted to five when she came within feet of him, then jumped on the Seeker. She wrapped the wire around his neck and began to tighten it.

"Collect your men an' leave, or ya'll be fillin' in fo' th' Helmless Seeker," she snarled. Starscream tried to fight off the ticked femme, but she wasn't easily shaken and increased pressure on his neck. Growling, he bowed his head and tugged at the wire.

"Fine. Thundercracker, Skywarp, let's go." Skywarp walked up slowly, supporting their downed trinemate. HipHop unwound the wire from his neck and shoved him away. The two conscious Seekers transformed and flew away, carrying Thundercracker.

"That was for Nightwind, Celeste, and Brightspark," she growled. Turning around, she flashed a roguish grin at Prime, folded her wings back on her helm, and threw away the wire.

"Prime, we got a bad situation on our hands!" Ratchet yelled. The mech and the femme turned around and ran back to the medic.

"Primus," HipHop cursed.

"What happened to him?" Prime asked. Jazz looked as if he had been through hell and back. Dents and scratches covered his battered body.

"He fell several hundred feet from the air. His spark's is alright, but he's losing energon fast. Can you perform a transfusion?" HipHop but in and offered her wrist.

"Use mah energon. He is mah bro, I gotta stick it out fo' him now we're back t'gether." Ratchet nodded, and unlatched her forearm armor and drew her energon.

"How did you know the Command Trine was going to attack?" Ironhide asked. "I've never heard anyone predict so closely when anyone would attack. And what was the code you were telling your brother?"

"It's mah receptors. Th'shape can pick up vibrations from several miles away. Ah've been trained t'recognize almost any bot by the sound o'their engines. An' Jazz an' Ah had a code that we developed so we could communicate wit'out anyone knowing what we said. BTTR means Beat Til They Retreat an' 'circuit vultures cubed' means three Seekers are going to attack. A simple code that hasn't been broken yet." She explained the code, keeping her optics on her brother.

Ratchet unhooked her wrist, but paused as he got a closer look at the bare protoform skin.

"What are those markings on your wrists?"

She looked sharply at him, but explained. "Ah was cuffed by high level stasis cuffs for a long period o' time when Ah got captured." A sly smirk twisted upon her features. "Luckily, those bastards never heard o' Spark lock. So, Ah was good."

Ratchet finished his temporary repair and stood up. "We'll need to get him to base. I can finish the repairs." They all nodded and transformed. Prime gently eased Jazz's body into his trailer and lead the troop back to the base.

_'Primus damnit Jazz! Ah didn't come all this way jus' t'lose y'again. Y'better get well or Imma kick your aft outta th' Well o' Sparks an' offline y'mahself.'_ HipHop thought viciously.

* * *

><p>Well, didja get where the pop culture references come from? If ya did, kudos! Didja like the first chapter? Please review and tell me! Flamers' opinions are tolerated, but be mature 'bout it. There's enouf trolls in the rest o' the internet. Please be mature! Once again, REVIEW!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

What's up, my loyal fans? I thank you all kindly for reviewing! Well, at least the two reviewers anyways. Guys, I'm flattered that so many people read my

story, but I NEED, NEED, NEED, **_NEED_ **reviews. Please do not read and not review. Review! Please! Well, enough chatter, here is the next chapter of

What Kind of Sick Joke is This?

Notes:

*Pedeball-a popular Cybertronian game. The sport is football (American, for all my non-American readers) with soccer rules and scoring(besides the

whole can't touch the ball with your hands and no body contact rules). Mechs generally play the sport, though the odd femme does play occasionally with

the mechs.

I do _NOT _own Transformers! All I own is the characters and plot. (Sorry for not including it in the first chapter, but it should have been obvious!)

* * *

><p>HipHop rolled into the base behind Prime and transformed back into bipedal mode. Suddenly she was tackled by two gold and red flashes.<p>

"AUGH!" she yelped as she landed on her aft.

"HIPHOP!" the Lamborghini twins yelled as they hugged their old friend excitedly.

"Sunny? Sides!" Her faceplate lit up with a grin. "Where th'frag have y'two been? Ah haven't seen y'since we were younglin's."

"Around," Sideswipe generalized, but Sunstreaker growled. "Don't call me Sunny!"

HipHop rolled her eyes and noogied his helm roughly. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Keep telling y'self that. Still ain't gonna stop."

"Wait, how do you know these guys?" Ironhide asked, curious how she knew the infamous twins.

"Sunny and Sides-"

"Don't. Call. Me. SUNNY, DAMNIT!" Said mech exclaimed. HipHop smacked him upside the helm.

"Shaddup, dumbaft! Ah've called y'Sunny for vorns and nothin's gonna change that. So act like a sponge an' suck it up!" she snapped. "Anyways, we went t' th' same primary school. Ah was their partner 'n crime."

She smoothly untangled herself from the heap of limbs and stood up. Sideswipe stood after her, a sly grin on his face.

"Is that space armor, 'cause your aft is outta this world!" The bots groaned at the horrible pickup line. But HipHop smirked and cut him down.

"Nope, this is pedeball* armor, 'cause Ah'm outta your league."

"I'm Primus's gift to femmes."

"Primus must have a really good sense o' humor."

"Your berth or mine?"

"Both; you go t'yours an' Ah go t'mine."

"Where have you been all my life?"

"Hidin' from ya."

"Bad femme! Go to my room!"

"No, I'm too rebellious."

"I... you... frag."

"Still can't beat meh, glitch head!" She crowed proudly. Turning her head, HipHop smiled at Red Alert and Mirage.

"Good t'see y'again, Raj an' Red."

Red Alert waved skittishly and Mirage nodded at her with a smile. HipHop heard a yell of her name and looked down. A curious little creature waved its arms at her. She knelt down and scooped it up gently in her servos.

It looked like a Cybertronian, and yet it was completely different. It was an organic in a bipedal mode and had two arms and two legs. It was covered in some sort of outer shell that seemed flexible when she poked it. Over its outer shell, some sort of cloth fit its body snugly. The top of its head had short dark brown strands of dead protein cells (What the frag?) sticking up from it. She shook her helm and greeted the small creature.

"Wassup, lil' buddy?"

"My name is Major Will Lennox, human commander of NEST."

"Human. Is that what y'all lil' organics are?" HipHop asked.

"Yes, we are the dominant species of this planet."

"Somehow Ah thought y'all would be, Ah dunno, taller."

Will laughed and grinned at the cheeky femme. "Somehow I knew one of you guys were going to say that one day. Anyways, Prime will give you the Autobot-Earth treaty and you can start off your duties. What is your rank?"

"Ah'm a commanding officer under 'Lita-One, the Supreme commander o'th'femme division, and head of the femme Special Ops."

"Looks like you'll be rubbing elbows with Jazz," Lennox observed.

"We're used t'it. Jazz is mah older bro," HipHop explained.

"I never knew Jazz had a sister," Lennox remarked.

"Yeah, it was purposeful so Ah could get through th'Special Ops Academy wit'out suspicion. 'Xcuse meh a second. Ah need t'find Ratchet." HipHop put the man down, transformed into her alt. form, and rolled away to the med bay.

She nearly flew through the base, gracefully evading humans and other bots. Reaching the med bay, she went back into her bipedal mode and knocked.

"GO AWAY SUNSTREAKER! I AM NOT FIXING ANOTHER DENT, PRIMUS DAMN IT!"

"Whoa, Doc, its jus' meh, HipHop. Ah came t'see how mah bro was doing." HipHop hid a snicker. She knew how Sunny was when he got dented or scratched. Ratchet stuck his head out of the door and looked at HipHop.

"I'm almost done with the general repairs. Your transfusion saved him. I reclosed his ruptured cables, set and soldered any broken struts, and reshaped his armor. He should online from stasis soon. However he will be put of commission for a few days. And so help me, if he tries to get up before then..." Ratchet trailed off, stroking his wrench almost lovingly. HipHop bit her lip plate with her denta in an attempt not to start busting out laughing.

"A'ight, jus' wanted t'make sure mah bro was ok. Thanks Doc bot!"

The turquoise femme began walking throughout the base, setting aside important locations in her memory files for future reference. She stopped at the offices and headed in. She stepped into Jazz's office and checked it out. It was reminiscent of Cybertron. A large desk, a comfortable chair, an energon dispenser, a large stack of datapads, both empty and full; it all reminded her of her office back on the ship.

"Excuse me, but what are you doing here?" A smooth, but almost emotionless, voice interrupted her thoughts. The voice made the energon in her run cold. HipHop whirled around, claws extended. There in front of her stood a tall mech with black and white armor, the labels on his legs suggested his alt mode was a police car. A red chevron was visible on his helm and guarded blue optics stared cautiously back at her. Said blue optics caused her to cycle her vents in relief and she retracted her blades.

"Mah apologies, Ah thought y'were another mech. Name's HipHop! Ah'm Jazz's younger sister. Ah jus' touched down today an' was assigned t'share Special Ops command wit' mah bro. May Ah ask who y'are?"

The mech nodded quietly. "My name is Prowl. I am the second in command and chief tactician."

HipHop smiled in recognition. "Yeah, Ah remember ya, sah. Mah bro would tell meh 'bout 'is day an' he told meh all 'bout y'mechs. He especially liked workin' wit' y', Prowl, sah."

She cycled her vents again and sat at the edge of Jazz's desk, placing her servos in her lap.

"Ah'm not sure if y'heard this, sah, but Jazz got hurt t'day. Ah'll b'taking over 'is duties 'till he can make 'is return. Jus' thought y'ld like t'know, sah."

HipHop was silent for a moment. The worry and guilt about her brother's injuries was eating her up as she knew that it could have been her in Ratchet's med-bay. Shaking her helm, HipHop hopped down and saluted Prowl.

"Permission t'head out, sah?" the femme asked. Prowl was impressed. She wasn't disrespectful like the Lambo twins, but she seemed lively.

"Permission granted."

"Thank ya, sah!" With a bright smile, she saluted again and walked out.

The corners of Prowl's lip plates curved up slightly. Jazz's sister was amusing, but respectful. However, his browplate furrowed as he thought about her initial reaction to him before she saw his optics.

'Could she have met...? No, it's simply illogical.' He walked back into his office, groaning inwardly at large stack of datapads waiting for him on his desk.

HipHop walked along quietly. He looked like, like...NO!

'NO! Ah am not thinking 'bout that carrier-fragging sparklin' o' a glitch!' her processor screamed. Suddenly, she bumped into a mech. She began to fall.

Realizing that she could kill several unsuspecting humans, HipHop arched her spinal strut and landed on her servos. She lifted her legs in a handstand and arched again carefully landing on her pedes. Pushing off her servos, she straightened up.

"Sorry for bumping inta ya, miss. I'm really sorry about tha- HIPHOP!" An army green mech crushed her to his chest in an enthusiastic embrace.

"Wait, Hound? Primus, where th'frag have y'been? Ah haven't seen y' fo' ages!" she replied, returning the hug.

"Pedeball buds for four vorns running, how the frag did we lose contact?"

"Ah dunno, we jus' did. Mech, it's great t'see y'again! So, what've y'been doing?"

Hound grabbed the small femme in a headlock and roughly rubbed her helm affectionately. "I'm a scout for the Autobots. You know me and nature."

HipHop slammed her fist into a weak part in his armor that she remembered from years past. The moment Hound flinched, she grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back.

"Yeah, th'two o'ya should fragging well sparkbond, since y'guys spend so much time t'gether." HipHop retorted. Hound laughed and almost gracefully wrenched his arm away from her hold.

"Nice moves, Songbird."

"Y'as well, Big Dog."

The two friends walked off, reminiscing of past times and old friends.

"Mech, pedeball was boring wit'out y'an' th'gang. Th'year y'all graduated, almost all o'th'team was gone. Ah quit after that. It jus' wasn't th'same."

"Sorry about that. Well, I applied to be a scout, since I would be closer to nature. Turned out I was a natural. Pit, they even gave me a hologram projector to further my scouting skills."

Hound patted the attachment on his shoulder. "So, I'm pretty cool with my position. How about you?"

"Ah joined th'femme Special Ops 'Cadamy. Ah worked under 'Lita-One an' slowly got up t'being head over th'whole femme Special Ops division."

"Damn, HipHop! When you get around, you get around."

"Yeah, Ah wanted t'b'in a job that Ah liked an' spying had that risky edge that Ah always l i-"

HipHop bumped into another mech and began falling, again. This time, the red firetruck grabbed her servo and hoisted her up.

"Sorry, miss. Didn't see ya there." A warm voice with a slight Southern twang apologized.

"No 'arm done an' I'm online, so y're fine."

HipHop smiled and stuck her servo out to the mech in front of her.

"Designation's HipHop. Y'r's?"

"Name's Inferno. Ya new 'round here?" he asked politely as he shook the femme's servo.

"Yep, jus' touched down t'day." Seeing a flashing warning that she was low on fuel, HipHop began to walk away.

"How 'bout we finish this over some energon? Ah'm starvin'."

Hound assented and Inferno nodded. The odd three walked down the hall, talking about Cybertron, Academy days, and the war.

* * *

><p>Well, you see that shiny button labelled Review? Click it, fill it out, and FOR THE LOVE OF PRIMUS AND ALL THAT IS HOLY AND GOOD, CLICK SEND AND<p>

REVIEW! Now that I've got that out of my system, please review. Love you all! Bye!


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